Tessa

The massive oak table sits between us like a canyon carved by centuries of blood and mistrust. Its surface is polished to a mirror shine, but the reflection I see in it isn’t my own—it's the history that brought us here. Wolves and lycans, two branches of the same ancient tree, split and twisted apart until we barely recognize each other.

Today, maybe, we start growing back together.

Keith sits at the head of our side, calm and composed, though I can feel his tension through the subtle tapping of his thumb on the table. To his right is Alpha Xavier, rigid-backed and ice-eyed. To his left, Papa sits...